Red Skies
by SickReality
Summary: A poem about the Oblivion Crisis


In the prison with no sound or light,

In the cage which drowns the sight.

On the year of Akatosh 433,

No one could see,

The doom that was about to sweep the land off its feet.

For in that certain cell, a hero emerged from the floor,

Stricken, confused, as the hero walked to the door,

Only to see four guards and one elegant man.

The end of the 3rd Era,

The might of Oblivion's terror.

When the Emperor was murdered that day,

In a blood filled room he lay,

And one Blade showed the hero the way.

So out of her cage, into the wind,

Feeling a freedom that was more delicious than sin.

With the Amulet of Kings in hand,

Yes! Everyone knows the legend of such stone,

As when she showed it to Jauffre, it shocked him to the bone.

The same Amulet that was given to Alessia to keep the daedra out,

But little did they know the daedra were lurking about.

Off to find the bastard son,

Thinking she was about done,

Little did she know- did anyone know- that the Daedra almost won.

On that day when Kvatch was sacked,

It was buildings, hope, and people that the town lacked.

For she was too late, the deed was done,

The daedra were coming for Uriel's son.

So up the hill and pass the man that spoke doom,

She was a fearless warrior, some would assume.

She saw the Gate to hell,

The Gate that was red and on fire,

The Gate, as she could tell,

Was making the guards tire.

The Deadlands, it was there she went,

The land where everything tries to kill, was where she was sent.

Her job, a difficult one, was to get the stone,

But she was afraid and all alone.

For nightmares still torture her,

Leaving her mind not as it were.

The sunless, red sky,

The grey, black, and red towers that were so high,

The things- both plant and monster- that wanted her to die.

For they did not want her in their land,

She was evading the tall fields, the muddy hills, and the lava beach with no sand.

They wanted her dead,

Or that was said.

In the epic songs they sung about her,

For with the Sigil Stone,

One broken bone,

She crawled- _crawled_, out of the Gate that disappeared behind her in a red flash,

And they didn't yell, didn't congratulate her, or pay her in cash,

Her and the guards left in a dash.

And after the battle,

After the blows that made her brain rattle,

She was the Hero of Kvatch, the savior of the town,

But she shook with terror and cried when no one was around.

Oblivion took its effect, it got into her mind,

With scary truth and clarity that made everyone so blind.

They were blind! They didn't know the Amulet protected them from that kind of world,

They didn't know, that it was the Emperor's son Martin and one little girl,

Who stopped this, stopped the sun from going away and the sky becoming red,

Stopped the people from becoming servants to the Deadric Lord Dagon or ending up dead.

For the White Gold Tower, was _the_ Tower, and the Amulet of Kings its stone,

For every Tower has a stone, and when the stone is disconnected from Its Tower, the barriers weaken.

So you all know the story, the feats of Martin and the girl,

The feats that saved and restored the world.

You all know the great battle that took place at that snowy city,

Four Oblivion Gates was a sight that was nothing but pretty.

You all know how Mankar Camoran died,

How his maddening mind turned truths to lies.

Paradise was anything but the picture some would imagine when saying the word,

Not a single happy person, butterfly, or bird.

The people of Paradise were anything but full of mirth,

They were stripped of their innocence ad their worth.

But that is what happens when one gambles with a Daedra Lord,

One may get a ring or an enchanted sword.

But when you become a servant- _a slave_ thinking you need to rewind,

It is time, young lad, to become a servant to the Divines.

When you are greedy for power, some magic that brings you might,

You need to start going into the light,

When you think you can out rule or even live better than a Deadric Lord,

When you think you can kill because you are higher, mightier, and bored,

It is time for a reality check,

It is time for you to split your own neck.

It is what this Hero almost did.

You all know the stories, how they got back the Amulet of Kings,

The hope was so real that even the dead from Aetherius started to sing.

But the hope was gone and the final battle in the Imperial City, and how the hero got Martin to the Temple of the One,

In the sunless, red sky,

The Demon- The Deadric Lord!- that they flew by.

They all know the story, the poems, the songs,

When Martin transformed into that dragon with sharp teeth, and a tail that was long,

The golden hide burning with holy flame,

The hero on the ground that couldn't call Martin's name.

The shattered temple, the pillars on the ground,

No one, not even daedra were around,

And from Skyrim the people could hear Mehrunes Dagon and the Dragon's terrible sound.

And a battle that would make her mourn, be planted forever in her memory,

A battle that will go down in history,

The Dragon cried to the Heavens, a cry of victory.

Mundus was saved, but at a terrible bargain,

Sitting there under the red sky, shaking and crying, the hero could only say one word,

_Martin._


End file.
